


The Liberty Book

by MymbleHowl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Children, Drabble, fluff-ish, more children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24147175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MymbleHowl/pseuds/MymbleHowl
Summary: I am also trying to post these as handwritten drabbles on Instagram where I’m still MymbleHowl. I’m trying to find appropriate backgrounds in the luxy Liberty catalogue, which I’ve also borrowed for the name.https://www.instagram.com/p/CAFiPxPhoYg/?igshid=1jyuawi8s9pym
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	The Liberty Book

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [With All Her Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21877285) by [Targaryens of Dragonstone (StarksInTheNorth)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarksInTheNorth/pseuds/Targaryens%20of%20Dragonstone). 



Sansa

‘Move, and I will burn us all’   
  
Catelyn was sprawled against 2 queens, her feet where Sansa’s bump met her legs, her dark curls spilt on Daenerys’ chest.  
  
‘I have to.’  
  
They both held their breath as Sansa balanced those little feet and shifted off the bed.  
  
‘You would pull that lot into order. I could fly you.’  
  
Sansa had flown 3 times, persuading lords of Westeros of various things, though it had been winter and the North had been decimated by the war with the dead.  
  
She held a finger against her pouting lips. ‘You owe me enough already’.  
  
————————

Daenerys Targaryen  
  
‘I wasn’t aware I was currently married and could therefore be used as any kind of precedent in your faith.’ Daenerys told the High Septon’s emissary, a woman only just older than the Queen herself, who had been introduced as Septa Aleyne.  
  
‘Whilst I respect your religion, I was not raised to adhere to it.’  
  
‘Your Grace, children cannot be raised outwith the marriage vows, or rather such children cannot…’  
  
‘Cannot what? Surely children may be capable of anything, after all a child cannot be held responsible for their parent’s failure to wed, or for any of their parents’ failings.’  
  
————————

Sansa  
  
Rhaella stood in the flower garden that always made Sansa think of Margaery and screamed and screamed and would not quiet.  
  
‘I want Papa.’  
  
Or mainly just ‘Papa’ over and over.  
  
A nursemaid could not prise her away, she held the thin silk of Sansa’s dress, her little nails sharp against Sansa’s skin.  
  
They all thought Rhaella quite grown up, with her hair down her back longer than Catelyn’s, who was twice her age, and the deportment of the mother who birthed her and two babies younger, with another coming.  
  
Then the Hand of the Queen came and pulled faces.  
  
————————

Daenerys  
  
‘It’s not fair’ said Eddard. He had been waiting on the cliffs of Dragonstone. ‘I will never get a dragon.’  
  
‘A dragon is born of fire and blood,’ she said, ‘I would never wish that for any of my children.’  
  
He gave her the cross frown he had learnt from his father.  
  
‘Don’t brood,’ she admonished, ‘you do not have the right hair for it.’ She ran her fingers through his silky Targaryen curls.  
  
‘What’s brood?’  
  
But Daenerys was still thinking of the fire and blood and ice that had made them and how to rebuild the world without it.  
  
————————

Sansa Stark  
  
It was 10 years since her sister had broken the spell of the dead with that little Valyrian steel knife. Since Jon had sworn them all to remembering. So, she had called all the survivors she could back. The summer snow glistened below her, a ghost of the past.  
  
The Queen in the North would thank them and hold them, compathise with their sorrow at losing people, their relief at being alive. She would listen to their news and show off all the children.  
  
She stood on the battlements waiting again, there would be no jealousy or secrets this time.  
  
————————

Jon  
  
‘Why are we not all together, always?’ whispered Lyanna, with the sharpness of a 5 year old.  
  
Jon looked at the children and women before him. Sansa was brushing Rhaella’s hair, her own hair in duplicate, her foot tipping Margaery’s cradle. Daenerys was playing dice too competitively with Catelyn and Eddard, Jorah held against her, in much the same way Jon balanced Lyanna.  
  
‘Because Queens are busy.’  
  
‘What’s the point of being Queen then?’  
  
Jon did not answer. He knew Lyanna needed a clear explanation, a soft reassurance, but his tongue was tied, he would ask them to give it.  
  
————————

Jon  
  
There were no more blackberries. So, Jorah decided he wouldn’t eat his porridge. Jon decided Jorah would have to eat his porridge. Otherwise there would be no ponytrek, no cliff-climbing, no stories about the Free-Folk, or Ghost in the snow. This turned out to be hard to enforce.  
  
Jorah sobbed loudly.  
  
Lyanna hung about the table offering various toppings: jam, syrupy peaches from Dorne, eventually she offered to eat the porridge herself. Jon could not decide if she was being helpful or trying to enrage her brother further. She went out.  
  
‘Just eat the porridge.’  
  
‘Then can I ride?’  
  
‘Yes.’  
  
————————

Jon Snow  
  
‘A nest of crows’ said Tormond clapping him on the back. ‘How many more are there?’  
  
‘This again’ Jon gestured.  
  
‘Another in the womb?’  
  
‘Aye.’  
  
‘Or 2?’  
  
Jon hoped not.  
  
‘Which one is which mother?’  
  
‘We have 2 mothers, all’ said Rhaella.  
  
‘Well this one I know. Wolf, dragon, wolf, wolf’ he pointed down the line.  
  
Eddard laughed, ‘No.’  
  
‘This one is tricky, you better watch out Jon Snow, have your Queens come up with some way to make a baby between themselves?’ Tormond shrugged and pointed back up the line ‘little sharp crow, fire crow, ice crow, dragon crow.’  
  
————————

Sansa  
  
‘Elia?’ Jon asked. He balanced the baby along his forearm and looked at her. Sansa thought she would have Robb’s hair.  
  
‘Yes, Elia.’ She replied, certain.  
  
Sansa had been waiting for an Elia since Rhaella had taken her first steps.  
  
‘This the last,’ said Jon.  
  
‘Aye.’ She mimicked his tone, mocking, but it was true. No more. The leaves were turning in the Godswood. There were a whole pack of children, not just her own, who needed to learn how to make justice, and safety, and peace. Learn how to keep the fire steady and the bellies full over winter.  
  
————————

Daenerys  
  
Margaery walked into the Water Gardens, her eyes bright.  
  
‘Thank-you,’ she said, hugging Daenerys’ legs tightly, her cloud of hair shining behind her.  
  
‘What for?’  
  
But Margaery was just smiling. She walked very sensibly behind Daenerys and dipped very prettily at the Dornish Prince and all the lords and ladies who had come to meet their Queen. There was a serious looking child, a head taller in height than Margaery, standing in the shade, Daenerys saw her whisper to this child.  
  
‘Your Grace, may we play?’ Margaery asked.  
  
Daenerys nodded.  
  
‘You are making a world of Queens?’ the Prince asked.  
  
————————

Jon  
  
‘What are you doing here, sweetling? Jon asked Ygritte, as he tacked up to ride with Jorah.   
  
‘Margaery’s crying from Rhaella’s hairbrushing.’ She lay down in the fresh hay, thumb in mouth.  
  
‘You can’t sleep there,’ he laughed and picked her up and set her on her feet.  
  
‘Why not?’  
  
He crouched down to her and took a strand of dry grass from her ever more disarray white braids.  
  
‘Well, you could be trampled.’  
  
‘The horses wouldn’t do that.’  
  
‘They might.’  
  
‘I don’t want to die,’ Jon shook his head, agreeing, but she continued, ‘then I won’t be with you.’  
  
————————

Daenerys  
  
‘I’m going to live with the Free Folk,’ said Theona, sitting beside Daenerys on the beach. Together they were piling shells up into little towers.  
  
‘Are you?’ said Daenerys, ‘What do you know of the Free Folk?’  
  
‘Papa’s stories before bed. Sometimes Eddard or Lyanna tell me things, but Catelyn and Rhaella don’t. They say go, be quiet, or not just now.’  
  
‘I see.’  
  
‘I will have 2 spear-wives and lots of children.’  
  
‘Children?’ Daenerys raised an eyebrow at Jon, he frowned.  
  
‘They will grow in the spear-wives stomach like Elia did, and we will all be together.’  


————————  


They came down the steps to the beach in age order, a pretty line. Catelyn, with her shoulders and gaze strong. Eddard, eyes amongst the clouds, dreaming of elsewhere, the sea breeze lifting his tendrils. Rhaella, serene and sure of foot, skirts long and demure. Lyanna, ready for a fight, bouncing on her toes, fists balled. Jorah, with an easy smile and a dancer’s grace. Margaery, brimful of delight and secrets. Ygritte, her eyes fierce and knowing despite the thumb in her mouth. Theona, wary and open and cautious and ready all at once. Elia, last, laughing on Jon’s shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> I am also trying to post these as handwritten drabbles on Instagram where I’m still MymbleHowl. I’m trying to find appropriate backgrounds in the luxy Liberty catalogue, which I’ve also borrowed for the name.  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CAFiPxPhoYg/?igshid=1jyuawi8s9pym


End file.
